Likewise
by FanficwriterGHC
Summary: It's not a joke, or a catastrophe, or even Castle that brings them together. Somehow, like the punch line of a bad joke, it's Mother's Day that does it.


**Title: Likewise**

**Disclaimer: I have to drive to my grandmother's house in five hours. I should really be asleep.**

**AN: So, Marlowe Prep apparently gets out at the beginning of May. Those fictional NYC private schools are crazy. I'm working from the assumption that Canon happened in "real time." Go with me.**

* * *

"Alexis?"

The girl turns her head, messy braid flopping listlessly against her shoulder. "Oh, hi," she mumbles, reaching up to swipe at her cheek where tears have made fresh tracks down her pale face. "You're up early," she adds, her eyes wide in the absence of sleep.

Kate nods and absently fingers the zipper of the large sweatshirt she stole from Castle's armchair in the office. "Yeah," she offers dumbly.

She suppresses her own snuffle, hoping Alexis can't read her scrubbed cheeks, can't understand her secrets. She wants to be strong in the face of her…boyfriend's daughter. She shakes her head. Boyfriend just doesn't cut it, but he is, isn't he? That's what the man sharing his bed, and his home, and his heart with her is called.

"Um," Alexis mumbles, running her fingers through her hair, pulling out wisps of red from her braid that fall around her cheeks. "We have—I think we have cereal? We kept saying we'd shop, but then Dad just wanted to order in, and when you've been here—"

"Sorry," Kate interjects, smiling as Alexis' lips twitch.

"No, no, it keeps Gram from cooking," the girl says, looking a little more comfortable—as comfortable as she can be with her father's new girlfriend-partner-complication witnessing what Kate's sure should be a private moment. "And you order good stuff."

"Thanks," Kate says, shoving her hands into the giant pockets that dwarf her waist. She resists the urge to toy with her own braid—a messy thing she threw together so she'd look something close to normal to go out.

"Do you want food?" Alexis asks, uncurling from the couch, her sweat pants scuffing the floor as she walks around the opposite side toward the kitchen. "I think the tea might still be hot."

"I'm good," Kate says softly, following the teenager into the kitchen, watching as Alexis wavers there, awkward and trying to be strong. But her cheeks are pink and her eyes rimmed red. "You okay?" she asks, desperate to do something to help; it's what Castle would do, if he wasn't dead to the world right now.

Alexis stares at her, eyes snapping to meet hers, her whole body stiff for a moment before she slackens. She leans back against the counter while Kate slides onto a stool at the island, the stove-top and tiles sitting between them, giving distance.

"I'm," Alexis starts, fidgeting, curling her arms across her chest. "Yeah," she sighs, looking away.

Kate bobs her head, willing to take that as truth, even though the girl is clearly hurting. Were it reversed, she's not so sure she'd open up either.

"No," Alexis says suddenly.

"No, you're not okay?" Kate asks softly.

"No. It's," Alexis huffs and steps forward to sink down, her arms folded on the counter, leaning in Kate's direction down the counter. "It's Mother's Day," she says, and Kate has to stall the urge to recoil at the utter bitterness in the girl's voice.

"Yeah," Kate agrees slowly, suddenly glad that her boyfriend-partner is still dead to the world.

"I'm not really a, uh, fan," Alexis lets out, shaking her head.

Kate laughs softly, watching as the girl's eyes snap to hers. "I can relate," she tells her, not sad, or angry, or competitive, just there in solidarity. She hates today too, so much.

"Right," Alexis breathes. "Sorry. Um, you sure you don't want eggs or something?" she says quickly, snapping up and looking around, almost panicked. "My dad—I really wish he'd gotten ice cream. Early for that, though," she rambles.

"Hey," Kate calls out, catching the kid before she can rip the refrigerator open to make Kate some kind of conciliatory breakfast. "I'm good."

"Okay," Alexis sighs after a moment, sagging back against the island counter. "I shouldn't—no right to complain."

Kate shakes her head, shifting in the wooden chair as she searches for the right words. "It's different, but it sucks either way, you know?" she offers lamely. She's still a little tired, and emotionally exhausted, and she has no idea how to deal with this version of Alexis.

They've been on awkward footing for the last week, tiptoeing around each other with strained smiles and cordial dinner conversation. She doesn't get animosity from the girl anymore, just hesitance. And she can understand that, having put Alexis' father in so much danger—having been so selfish.

There's so much making up to do, and she's been trying. But they don't really know each other well enough for this—for dead mothers and flighty mothers, and tear-stained cheeks at 6am.

Alexis sighs and Kate watches as the teenager draws in breath, opening, maybe. "She didn't come to my graduation," Alexis murmurs, raising her eyes to meet Kate's. "Who doesn't go to their daughter's graduation? I was the Valedictorian."

Castle didn't mention that. Kate had just assumed Meredith was somewhere around, but hadn't had the brain space to really contemplate what that would mean. She didn't go to the—who does that?

"I'm," Kate pauses and studies the young woman now across from her—the strength and passion and intelligence that hold her together. Underneath, she sees more, sees a little girl who needed her mother, and her mother didn't come. She sees a young woman of 18, who needs her mother, and oh, how she can relate. Just a year, one measly year more, and she knew that feeling so desperately. "I'm sorry."

Alexis nods slowly. "Me too," she whispers. "And, uh, likewise."

Kate smiles, tracing the imprint of last night's wine glass on the counter. "Thanks."

Alexis smiles slowly back and they stay there, mute in the silence of the loft, nothing but the quiet hum of the refrigerator surrounding them, tuning out the distant traffic.

"Do you," Alexis starts a few minutes later, one of her fingers digging into the blue long-sleeved cotton shirt that hangs from her frame, a little too big. "Do you do anything, today?"

Kate takes a low breath. She'd been hoping to leave and come back without explaining, without letting either Castle know. Rick would want to come, and this, here, with Alexis, wasn't in the plan when she awoke. But now? Now, maybe they have more common ground than she thought, and maybe she can trade Castles for a few hours.

"I usually go visit my mom," she tells Alexis, her voice a little hoarse, but steady. There's no shame in it. It's just private—has been private for so long. "And then," she breaks off and shrugs. "Work, I guess."

"Oh," Alexis lets out. "That's why you're up."

"Yeah," Kate admits, giving the girl a gentle smile. "Thought I'd do it early, let your dad sleep."

Alexis bites her lip and considers her. Kate lets her, tries to give something through her eyes, her posture. She doesn't know what Alexis needs, but she hopes she can provide the answer, hopes that she's not just good for Castle. She'd like to be good for Alexis too, however she can.

"But you're not working," Alexis says, and Kate startles, surprised.

"No, I'm not," she confirms.

"Do you wish you were, today?" Alexis wonders, curious and timid.

Kate smiles and shakes her head, glad she has this answer—glad this answer is the same as it was last week, that night, that beginning. "Not at all," she says firmly. "Being busy would be nice, I guess. But I'm—for the first time in, well, since," she stumbles, waving her hand. "For the first time, I just don't want to be there. I'm happy."

"Not being at the precinct," Alexis surmises. "You really are."

"I am," Kate assures her. "Well, maybe not quite happy, today, you know?"

Alexis laughs quietly. "Yeah."

"Do you have any traditions?" Kate asks gently, trying to reciprocate, to offer avenues of communication, to give something between them.

Alexis clicks her tongue. "We used to. I used to call, or visit, you know, since school usually let out by now in high school. But at this point," she pauses and shrugs, one of her hands digging into her forearm. "I don't even want to call," she mumbles.

"Understandable," Kate offers, her own fingers toying with her sleeves.

"But I should," Alexis lets out. "She's my mom, and I should," she stops and stares at Kate, hesitant. "I should appreciate that, right? Because you never know."

"You never know," Kate agrees. "But that's—" she sighs and searches for the right words, for a way to make it okay for Alexis to not call her mother, even though they're both right; there's never enough time. "But maybe you call her tomorrow," she suggests slowly.

"Forget hers because she forgot mine?" Alexis provides archly. "Oh, I kind of want to."

Kate chuckles. "Always feels good."

"Yeah," Alexis agrees before she sags and puts her head in her hands. "But I can't," she mumbles morosely. "I don't want to play it like that."

Kate nods in understanding and they fall silent for a few minutes. But the air is clearer between them, their looks less guarded. Maybe there's something ironic about it, or coincidental. Maybe they're really just a punch line; a motherless daughter and an abandoned daughter walk into a bar. Castle's bar. Oh, he'd kill her if she stole his keys and took Alexis for a drink, wouldn't he?

She shakes her head, laughing at herself. Wow. No, with her family's history, that's a horrible thing to think.

"What?" Alexis asks, peering at her in the dim light that pours through the windows.

"Just," Kate starts, biting her tongue, weighing her options. Oh, to hell with it. "Thought maybe we should break into your dad's bar and have a drink," she says, figuring if nothing else, it'll get a laugh.

She's not disappointed. Alexis lets out a loud, startled giggle, her eyes brightening at the mere suggestion. "Oh," she pants, clutching at the counter. "He'd kill you."

"Too bad," Kate sighs, smiling as Alexis calms down, looking young again, more like herself—at least, more like the little Kate knows of her.

Alexis grins. "Save it, maybe?"

Kate stills for a fraction of a second, floored. Save it, save it for three years from now, when Alexis is old enough to drink? Oh. "Sure," she says quickly, too eager to hold onto their fragile peace to really let herself soak that up.

Alexis nods decisively. "Deal."

Kate smiles and takes the hand the girl extends, shaking firmly across the kitchen island. "It's a date."

They drop hands and Alexis relaxes, scratching lightly at her scalp as her stomach rumbles. They both laugh quietly, the tension broken, the sadness lifted. Maybe now she understands why Castle wants to come home here every night—really understands. Alexis breathes life and light. It's rather astounding, really.

"So, you hungry yet?" Alexis asks, straightening up. "Apparently I am."

Kate laughs and gauges her own body. She can't eat before she goes to see her mother—not with so much to say, with so much behind her.

Alexis beats her to it though, and she can see the girl pulling herself together, not hardening, but maturing before her eyes—taking on that too-old mentality Castle's lamented so frequently this past year. "You probably want to go, right?"

Kate shrugs. She does, but there's something so tempting about staying here, eating with Alexis, maybe watching movies with Rick. There's never enough time, but her mother—there's too much time, really. Too much time to stare at a tombstone. But she wants to, she needs to.

"I," she sighs, scrubbing at her face. "I should, but," she breaks off, trying to find a good solution, a way that doesn't leave Rick's kid alone and hurting—a way that doesn't put them back to the break of dawn, crying in separate corners.

"Do you," Alexis starts before she shakes her head, waving herself off. "Never mind."

"Do I what?" Kate prompts. She'll take Alexis' solution, if she's got one.

"Do you maybe want to go get breakfast first? I mean," she peters off.

For that, for her hesitance and the need there behind her eyes, Kate figures she could force down a bagel. Hash browns, maybe, too. Her stomach rumbles as Alexis waits her out, shrinking with every passing second. Maybe she really should eat, actually. Her mother would want her to.

"That would be great," she tells the timid girl. "Sure."

"Oh," Alexis lets out, surprised. She brightens, standing tall, a smile pulling at her cheeks that she tries to suppress. "Great. Good. I'll—I'll go get changed?"

"Yeah," Kate agrees, trying to look at ease and ready and supportive. Castle's got to have a manual somewhere, right? She doesn't even want to think about the step-parent chapter, but maybe the girlfriend one: "How to Successfully Navigate Burgeoning Relationships with Your Significant Other's Child."

"Okay," Alexis says, clapping her hands together. "Um, note—can you write a note for dad?"

"I'll tell him," she assures the girl. "Meet you in ten?"

"Yes," Alexis agrees, spinning on her heel without another word, a flash of red and blue as she streaks up the stairs.

Kate sits still for a long moment, staring at the girl's vacated counter space. This is the start of something, something good, she thinks. She likes Alexis, always has. But maybe now the girl—woman—will like her too, can learn to like her again.

She walks into Rick's room in a daze, tossing his sweatshirt onto the armchair. She should probably wear her own coat if they're going out to eat. She walks around to his side of the bed, sliding down to sit near his hip, watching more than feeling as she reaches out to stroke his cheek.

"Castle," she whispers, waiting until he blinks his eyes open. "Hey."

"Hey," he rasps, swallowing as he brings her into focus. "Why're you up?"

"Alexis and I are going out for breakfast," she says softly. "Just wanted to tell you. We'll—she'll be back in a few hours, and I'll be back a little after that."

"Different?" he asks, still half asleep and struggling with it. It's probably best that way.

"Yeah. I have a few things I need to do," she says soothingly. She almost wants it to be their secret, a thing they share, something that's theirs without him.

"Kay," he sighs. "Take my card," he adds as he nestles back into his pillow.

"I won't," she says easily. "Try again tomorrow."

"Gonna wear you down," he mumbles, his hand swiping blindly at her thigh until she catches his hand and brings it to her lips, pressing a kiss into his palm.

"Keep telling yourself that. We'll be back."

"Love you," he slurs, his lips twitching even as his eyelids flutter shut.

"You too," she whispers, squeezing his hand before she stands and runs a hand over his shoulder.

He hums and then his breathing evens out, his mouth falling open in the way she loves. Adorable. She has an adorable boyfriend. She hears Alexis clomping down the stairs, a little tired and less than graceful, and she smiles. She has an adorable boyfriend who comes with a daughter, and maybe they can be friends.

Alexis beams at her as Kate slides out of the office, closing the door gently behind her. She grins back and presses a finger to her lips, gesturing over her shoulder toward the bedroom, opening her mouth in a credible imitation of her boyfriend's slumber.

Alexis giggles and grabs her keys as Kate slips into the light summer trench she brought over a few days ago. Alexis eyes it appreciatively and asks for the name of the designer.

Kate grins and ushers her out of the apartment, the store location falling from her lips as Alexis hands her the keys to lock them out. Halfway through the turn, she realizes Alexis is letting her lock the loft. She meets the girl's eyes as she straightens up, shocked.

Alexis shrugs and laughs a little shyly before she turns and walks toward the elevator, leaving Kate there gaping in her wake. She swallows and then kicks herself into gear, jogging to catch up with the younger red head.

Maybe they can be more than friends. Maybe, someday, they can be something kind of like family.


End file.
